


7 minutes in hell (or at least awkward silence)

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Annoyed Jean, Bickering, Clueless Jean, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Modern Era, Ridiculous, Romance, Silly, Sweet, Sweetness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, adorable boys, annoyed eren, frenemies to lovers, mega fluff, super fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: Jean and Eren participate in a game of "7 Minutes in Heaven" on the last night of college.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Comments: 14
Kudos: 298





	7 minutes in hell (or at least awkward silence)

“So, uh, here we are,” Jean says awkwardly.

Eren doesn’t say anything back.

“Congratulations on graduating. Wasn’t so sure we’d make it, but we did, huh?” He gives an uncomfortable chuckle.

Jean wonders if a full minute has passed yet. If so, only six more to suffer through and then he can leave.

There is a long pause.

Jean squints. Eren is standing a surprising distance away, given that they’re locked in the storage closet together.

He looks strange in the light from the naked bulb – alien, his brilliant eyes glittering. 

Jean finds himself getting unaccountably uneasy. His nerves are already strung tight both from exhaustion and from all the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface this past week. He still hasn’t quite wrapped his mind around the fact that he’s leaving tomorrow, they’re all leaving tomorrow, for good. They’ll never be back to this place that’s meant so much to them, with the people who have meant so much to them – not in the same way. Yeah, he’ll be rooming with Marco in the apartment they rented in the city, and Connie, and Sasha, and the others will be not too far away. But “not too far away” isn’t the same as two doors down; in fact, it’s a helluva big difference.

He shivers. He’s cold, too. He always gets cold when he stays up past 2 in the morning. It starts in his toes, and slowly travels up until it finally reaches his head. It’s at the fingertip stage now, and he stuffs his hands in his pockets to try to warm them up.

“Who’d _you_ want to end up with in here?”

Eren doesn’t answer, and the silence is getting to Jean. He finds that he has to fill it.

“Did you want Krista? Or maybe Ymir? Although, I thought you didn’t like Ymir that much. Or maybe you wanted to get Reiner?” He leers slightly at Eren, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Reiner isn’t Jean’s type by any stretch of the imagination, but his burly frame and even features have been a consistent favorite among both men and women over the past few years.

Jean is babbling, but he can’t help it. He’s feeling more and more uneasy, trapped in here with Eren. Why did he agree to play this stupid, childish game, anyway? Why did he think it’d be a lark, playing “7 minutes in heaven” with his old freshman dorm friends? Did he want to play because now they’ve come full circle from the first and last time they ever played, way back during orientation week freshman year? Perhaps. And maybe a part of Jean had also hoped, ridiculously, that luck would finally be with him, and he’d have one last chance at the crush he’s been nursing for almost four years and never had the guts to act on.

But it didn’t turn out that way, did it? As Jean should have expected, given his inevitably shitty luck. Because now he’s locked in a closet with Eren Jaeger for seven minutes of hell, or at least awkward silence, and there must be 4 long minutes left until he’s free.

“I wanted to end up with Mikasa,” he rambles on. “I was always jealous of you, that she was so close to you.” He continues, thoughtfully, to himself more than Eren, “I’m surprised you two never ended up together, the way she’s always hovering over you.”

Eren is staring at him, like he always does, like Jean is the biggest idiot to ever walk the earth and he’s going to punch him in the next thirty seconds. But there’s another look in Eren’s eye, too, almost as though he’s about to burst into laughter at the absurdity of life. _What_? Since when did Jean start waxing so philosophical? It’s probably his brain moving well past exhaustion and into hallucinogenic territory.

“So, uh, who’d you want to get?” he asks again. He can’t think of anything else to say. He’s also curious. As far as he knows, Eren’s had a few short-lived flings during college, but nothing more than that, which is a bit strange, given how attractive he is.

Then again, maybe not, given how annoying he is. Take right now, for instance. Why does it have to fall on Jean to fill up this unpleasant seven minutes? Eren should be doing his part as well. 

But then Eren answers him, which is a relief. Until Jean hears the words.

“You, actually.”

“Ha ha, that’s funny,” says Jean. “Nice joke. Seriously, who’d you want to make out with, on your last night of college?”

“I’m not joking,” says Eren. And indeed, his face is very serious.

“What?” asks Jean, thinking he hasn’t heard correctly.

Eren sighs his usual sigh of annoyance at having to deal with such a simpleton.

“I want to kiss _you,_ Kirstein.”

“What the hell, man?” asks Jean, spluttering.

But Eren doesn’t back down.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“What?!! You’re kidding, right?”

“I already told you,” Eren says, sounding more exasperated. “I’m not.”

Jean grimaces. He can’t help it. Did Eren really just say he's wanted to kiss _Jean_? And that he’s not kidding?

At the sight, Eren’s face crumples slightly, before it smooths out again into blankness.

Jean, still wrestling with the inconceivable notion that Eren _likes_ him, doesn’t notice. He asks, “For how long?”

“What?”

“For how long have you wanted to kiss me?”

“Oh. Months? Years? Since freshman orientation?”

“What the fuck, dude? Since school first _started_?” Jean is flabbergasted.

Eren nods calmly, as though he’s talking about the weather.

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

Eren shrugs his shoulders. “I couldn’t. I didn’t have the nerve.”

“You didn’t have the nerve? You’ve got, like, balls of steel, man. I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true.”

“Nah, I don’t believe it.”

Eren looks annoyed again. “You can ask anyone.”

“Anyone?”

“Yeah. Armin. Mikasa. Connie. Even Levi. Everyone fucking knows except fucking clueless you.”

“Wait a minute. Are you blaming _me_ because I didn’t know you liked me?”

Eren shrugs again, as if to say, _If the shoe fits._

“No way is that on me. You’re always picking fights with me! I have the scars to prove it! Like here,” Jean points to a faint white line on his chin where he fell on the potted plant after Eren pushed him. “And here.” He holds up his crooked ring finger, which got broken in one of their fist fights. “And here.” He touches his left elbow, where he had to have stitches after Eren tackled him onto the concrete.

Eren has the grace to blush. “Ah. Well. As to that. Expressing things isn’t my forte.”

“That’s putting it generously,” Jean mutters under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair. He didn’t think he’d be dealing with unexpected bombs on the last night of school.

Then he looks up at Eren. He’s always known that Eren is gorgeous (not that he would ever admit it out loud, of course.) And now that it’s on the table, he’s finding himself thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to kiss him. To feel Eren’s lips under his. To have Eren’s hot breath tickling his face. To run his own hands along the warm golden skin of Eren's arms. The more he thinks about it, the more he can admit to himself that the prospect is… enticing.

He takes a deep breath and blows it out. Blinks. Says, “Okay. Go ahead then. Kiss me.”

To his astonishment, Eren shakes his head. “No. I’m not gonna kiss someone who doesn’t want to kiss me back.”

“I _do_ want to kiss you.”

Eren shakes his head harder. “No you don’t. You made an awful face when you realized I really did want to kiss you.” 

“Come on, Jaeger. I made that face because it was a total shock to me. ”

Eren mutters, almost to himself. “Armin told me you were completely oblivious. I didn’t believe him.” His voice gains the strength of conviction. “But that wasn’t a shocked face. That was a disgusted face.”

“No it wasn’t!”

“Yes, it was,” says Eren with certainty. “You don’t want to kiss me.”

“I’m telling you that I _do_ want to kiss you!”

“No you don’t.”

“You don’t know my feelings better than I do!” Jean protests.

“Yes I do,” says Eren in that insufferably all-knowing tone that routinely drives Jean crazy. “You're disgusted by me.”

“I'm not... disgusted by you.” Perhaps that wasn't the best wording. Jean tries again. “You’re not… unattractive.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to make out with _someone_ , and you’re stuck here with me.”

“I’m not just saying it! You’re fucking gorgeous, Eren! I’ve always thought that.” He slams his hand over his mouth. _Shit_! He hadn't meant to let that out. Eren will never let him live it down.

Eren stares, his mouth open.

“Have you really?” he asks.

Jean exhales sharply. Well, it’s already out. “Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at the floor. Then adds, “So?”

“So what?”

“So let’s kiss.”

“No,” says Eren.

“What?!” Jean can’t believe it.

“There’s a difference between finding someone attractive and wanting to kiss them. I think Mikasa is gorgeous, and no way in hell would I ever want to kiss her.”

“Godammit, Jaeger, why are you so impossible?!” Jean can feel his blood pressure rising and thinks maybe he should see a doctor about it. Do 22-year-olds even get high blood pressure? “Would you just fucking kiss me?” He also wonders, even as the words leave his mouth, how Eren has managed to turn the tables so thoroughly that now Jean is in the position of begging Eren to kiss him. Isn’t that just like Eren fucking Jaeger!? Jean doesn’t know if he wants to kiss Eren or punch him into oblivion. Stupid motherfucker!

Eren tilts his head to the side. He’s considering it.

“Just _do_ it!” says Jean.

Even so, he’s a little surprised when Eren, apparently coming to a decision, takes the few steps between them. Now he’s standing right in front of Jean, their bodies almost touching.

Jean clears his throat nervously.

“Should I, um…?”

“Shut up, Kirstein,” says Eren. He lifts his hands and carefully, gently, cups Jean’s face.

It’s an uncharacteristically tender movement, one he wouldn’t have expected from Eren. A strange feeling of something – _is this what butterflies feel like?_ – rises in Jean’s stomach. He bites his lip.

Eren steps up on his toes, and the butterflies – they must be butterflies – start flying around in earnest. Eren’s eyes are so very luminous, this close up. He leans into Jean, and Jean automatically grabs hold to steady him. Eren’s waist is solid and gives off a pleasant heat to Jean’s cold fingers. The warmth slams the reality of the situation home to him: _Eren Jaeger is about to kiss him._

His heart is knocking about in his chest, and he has to grip tighter to stop his hands from trembling.

Eren must feel it, because he says, in a quiet voice, “Are you sure, Jean?”

Jean swallows at the sound of his name spoken so softly. He knows that if he were to say “No, I’m not sure,” Eren would drop back and step away, no questions asked.

The butterflies flap around even harder at the realization. Such a tender feeling floods through him that for a moment he can’t breathe. He and Eren have been through such a lot together over the years.

“Yeah,” Jean whispers. “Yeah, Eren. I’m sure.”

And then Eren smiles, and Jean feels like his heart is going to drop right out of his stomach, but it doesn’t have time to do that, because Eren leans in and touches his lips to Jean’s.

It’s a very quick kiss, and then Eren is back down solidly on earth, his hands still on Jean’s face, looking up at him expectantly.

“That’s it?” Jean asks, frowning. The words are out before he can stop them.

Eren’s eyebrows shoot up, and Jean grins at him. The one time he hadn’t meant to be insulting… It’s just that he was honestly expecting something more, from Eren of all people. Something with a little more oomph to it.

Eren seems to get the idea, though, because, instead of getting angry and stomping away (although there’s not much room to stomp here), he grabs Jean by the neck and pulls him down for another one.

This kiss is much more like one Jean would expect from Eren. Eren presses his mouth against Jean’s, hard, and grips Jean’s neck, hard, and pushes his body into Jean’s, hard.

And when Jean gives a little gasp at the strength of it, so different from the soft, tender kiss only seconds earlier, Eren darts his tongue into Jean’s mouth. It’s in and out so briefly that Jean barely has time to savor the feeling before it’s gone.

He unconsciously leans into Eren, chasing after him, wanting more.

Eren’s breath huffs into his mouth, and Jean can feel his lips smiling. But Jean’s not interested in smiles right now, he wants another one of those kisses.

He slides his own tongue into Eren’s mouth, and he’s pleased to hear Eren gasp this time.

He swings Eren around, so now Jean is pushing against Eren, one hand pinning Eren’s waist to the wall, the other bracing himself above Eren’s shoulder.

And then they’re really kissing, wet, loud kisses, both of them gasping for breath. Eren's hands are sliding up the inside of Jean's shirt, tickling his skin in the best way possible. Jean's got one hand in Eren's thick, soft hair and the other on Eren's hip, pulling him in tight.

And it’s… amazing. Talk about seven minutes in heaven.

But then Jean thinks that maybe this _is_ some sleep-deprived hallucination after all, because, really, there’s no way it’s only been seven minutes.

He pulls back and asks, panting, “Does it feel like we’ve been in here longer than seven minutes?”

“Ah,” says Eren, sounding embarrassed. “I asked Armin to give us half an hour.” 

Jean laughs and winds his arms around Eren, tugging him into his chest. He kisses the top of Eren’s head, muttering, “Optimistic of you, eh?”

But he’s certain Eren must hear the smile in his voice, because Eren’s arms come around his own waist. They stand together for a moment, wrapped around each other, gently swaying. 

And Jean can’t help thinking that he was wrong earlier. Maybe his luck _has_ changed. Maybe he’s the luckiest guy on campus right about now. Maybe he’s even in heaven. And it’s gonna last a whole lot longer than 7 minutes. Or even 30.

He’s sure of it.


End file.
